Chapter 23

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 23

Chapter Title: Wish

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The fierce storm that had raged the previous evening had finally subsided.

Olivia steadied her ragged breathing.

'If only you weren't in my belly... Elena, my daughter, could have started anew. So make yourself useful enough for both your mother and me.'

The earl, having gathered the bank guarantee, identification, and passport, looked down at Olivia collapsed on the messy cabin floor with a contemptuous gaze before turning on his heel and leaving.

It had been a brutal night stained with merciless violence. Anne sobbed uncontrollably, but for some reason, Olivia shed no tears.

At six years old. Even after her business collapsed, her father passed away, and her mother abandoned her, leaving her utterly alone. Han Ji-an had survived.

Everything was a mess, and it seemed like things couldn't get any worse, yet she hadn't cried then either. Crying solved nothing.

This world was full of unsolvable, uncontrollable problems anyway.

And still, she hadn't given up on life.

"Don't cry, Anne."

This was her second life, a gift.

She couldn't let it all be taken away like this.

Even if the despair of reality crushed her until she could barely breathe, as long as she still drew breath, she had to struggle.

That was how Han Ji-an had lived. She had faced a harsh world head-on with nothing but her bare self and endured.

"It'll be all right."

Olivia whispered as she embraced Anne's small, trembling back.

"Did you open the account here?"

Olivia snapped out of her reverie at the employee's startled question.

"No. I did it in Le Mont. The Rondos Le Mont branch."

"Are you from Rondos?"

"Yes."

The employee was thoroughly businesslike.

"It'll take some time to verify. Your name?"

"……."

"Your name."

"……O-Olivia Blanchett."

Even a rigid banker who only cared about numbers wasn't immune to the Rose Ball scandal.

That Olivia?

The employee's drowsiness vanished in an instant. He snapped his head up, peering intently through the grating at the woman's face. His eyes widened behind the glasses pulled tight to the bridge of his nose.

The shameless woman who had eyed Princess Annblin's necklace around her neck and even her former lover. The gossip rags had buzzed that even her divorce followed the princess's lead. To think that woman was standing right in front of him.

Calling herself Olivia Blanchett explained the strangely alluring makeup. With a face like that, he'd fall for her charms a hundred times over himself.

"May I see your identification?"

"Well... I don't have it."

"What about your passport?"

"I don't have that either."

The employee looked up at Olivia.

"You don't have it?"

"No."

Only when he asked again did he finally face the woman's features instead of the oversized hat. Her beauty was beyond words. Had something awful happened with the princess, perhaps?

Nah, no way. He shook his head. Not from someone so kind, elegant, and utterly devoted.

"It was stolen along with the guarantee. Isn't there any other way? I have to block it."

The woman, with her garish makeup unbefitting a Litton lady, looked quite desperate. Even that desperation was alluring, softening the mind of the profit-driven banker.

She was vouched for by major dailies, after all.

Though the newspapers hadn't shown her face in the photos.

If it weren't for their stuffy bank manager—who shot glares like curses even with his eyes—he could've handled this handsomely on his own authority and turned it into a lovely dinner date.

"You'll need to report it to the police first. Then head to the consulate to reissue your ID and passport. That's the proper order, Miss Blanchett."

Seeing her undisguised disappointment tugged at him, but with the manager's piercing stare in mind, this was the best a mere employee could do.

"What do we do now?"

"Let's go to the consulate first."

Olivia and Anne hurried out, caught a carriage, and headed straight for the Rondos consulate.

But the consulate staff gave her no answer she wanted. He was even more fastidious than the banker.

"Reissuing identification takes about ten days."

"Ten days?"

Earl Blanchett had likely already arrived in Rondos.

With her ID, he could forge a power of attorney, take the train to the capital Leiden, and handle everything at the International Bank headquarters in just two days.

She had to block the account before then. Ten days?

"Can't it be any faster? Please."

"Unless you fly to the Foreign Ministry in Leiden—and even then, who knows how diligent the officials there would be."

Olivia calmed herself and explained the situation in detail once more.

"I understand fully. I do, but there's no way around it. How can I even process the application?"

The staff remained perfunctorily dismissive.

"……Is there really no other way?"

Olivia couldn't back down.

The consulate employee, from Rondos's capital Leiden, was a patriot.

He loved Rondos and revered the nation's hero, Duke Edinburgh, especially his son Johann.

No way he'd feel sympathy for a woman who had besmirched such an honorable house.

Even if there was a way, he had no desire to help. If her face, rumored to belong to a seductress, weren't covered in wounds, he probably wouldn't have budged.

Who the hell beat her up like that? That softened the stuffy employee's heart. Being stranded alone in a foreign land stirred his sense of kinship as well.

"If you have a guarantor to vouch for your identity. We could do it immediately."

"A guarantor?"

For the first time, a spark lit in her bruised eyes. Her clear blue irises shone purely amid the bloodshot whites. Captivated by those innocent eyes, his thinking narrowed.

"Someone with authority. Who can take full responsibility if issues arise with you, Miss Blanchett. Say, Marquis Lancelot."

Of course, that lofty, arrogant man wouldn't bother himself over some divorced scandal-monger he'd toyed with for a night. He'd bet his entire fortune on it.

The woman would come to her senses at his firm refusal.

The consulate employee thought as he watched Olivia rush out of the office.

The woman stepping down from the black carriage ran toward the hotel's main entrance. Her face was obscured by the cumbersome hat, but it was Olivia Blanchett.

"Miss Blanchett."

Edgar, about to board his carriage for a lunch appointment, called out to her. She halted mid-step on the stairs and turned. The hem of her skirt swirled like a wave.

"Ah! Mr. Lancelot."

The delight in her voice wasn't unpleasant.

No. It was quite nice.

The time when shadows had lifted. Beneath the noon sun, her wide hat brim fluttered in the breeze as she hurried toward him.

Her skin seemed especially pale today, and the tacky eye makeup and lip color drew a chuckle.

Then his eyes caught her wounded face as she stopped before him. The horrific aftermath of last night's bystander indifference.

He'd heard from the manager about the state of Earl Blanchett's guest room, but Edgar had ordered no special action.

With sunken eyes, he regarded her. The old man treated his own granddaughter barbarically.

"Your face. What happened?"

"Oh... this. It was an accident... I fell."

"An accident?"

"……Yes. Just an accident. More importantly, I need to talk to you. Are you busy right now?"

Her head dipped evasively at first, but then lifted with resolute eyes to meet his again.

"Is it urgent?"

"Yes. Very."

Anxiety was plain in her clear blue eyes.

"I can hear you out on the way. Care to join?"

Edgar extended his hand courteously. For the first time, she took it without hesitation.

He flashed a gentlemanly smile as he helped her into the carriage. Capturing a cornered herbivore stirred a faint prick of nonexistent conscience.

Even now, flashes were probably popping somewhere.

Hidden amid the midday sun and street noise. No hunting ground for high-society gossip yielded better than a hotel entrance.

As the carriage moved, the golden hotel receded. Peaceful scenery flowed past the window, silence settling between them.

Edgar leaned back, savoring the sweet quiet for a moment. He had no rush, no urgency.

The woman fidgeted with their clasped hands. Instead of her face, only the large hat with its pale pink ribbon filled his view.

The ribbon swayed with the carriage's jolts. He suddenly wondered about her expression beneath the hat's shadow.

"So. What's this urgent matter?"

Only then did Olivia slowly raise her head.

She didn't want to get tangled with this man again. But the world paid no heed to Olivia's resolve.

Please let me live quietly. Peacefully.

Perhaps because so many prayed to God, Olivia's wish had been overlooked. Otherwise, she wouldn't be sitting across from Edgar Langcaster Lancelot.

Olivia bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Tell me."

His voice was gentle.

Leaving the consulate, she'd felt bold enough to demand shamelessly, but now the words stuck in her throat.

It was all because of that absurd scandal. Didn't this man bear some responsibility too?

That confidence evaporated face-to-face with him, replaced by shame. Thinking him an innocent victim of the rumors silenced her completely.

But if she let it go like this...

Olivia gathered her breath, organized her thoughts, and broached carefully.

"We made a bet, remember? Granting a wish."

"Ah! The bet."

Edgar grinned.

"I remember."

He remembered.

Olivia finally relaxed. This was now a somewhat justified request.

"Grant that wish. Now."

Her desperate plea rang out clear.